


the joke's all on Sam

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [67]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Duct Tape, M/M, Rough Sex, Unsafe Bondage, Voyeur Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But, the night was young, and depending on how worked over he was in a few hours time, maybe he’d be tender to the point of begging for Dean to do it gentle. If the gag was out then. Just a dirty rag that tasted like metal and oil and ungh, Dean had some nasty habits. A few strips of duct tape slapped across his cheeks, he’d sweat them off probably. Skin pinching with it, twisted under tape, blood circulation cutting off. Dean didn’t play safe but Sam trusted him and they were both a lot reckless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the joke's all on Sam

Sam winced when Dean pulled too tight, biting the inside of his cheek instead of whining. Whining would only make Dean pull even tighter. The tacky friction of duct tape chafed his skin and it was going to be so, so much worse coming off than it was going on. If Dean was nice, he’d cut it off.

Sam really kind of hoped Dean wasn’t going to be nice.

But, the night was young, and depending on how worked over he was in a few hours time, maybe he’d be tender to the point of begging for Dean to do it gentle. If the gag was out then. Just a dirty rag that tasted like metal and oil and ungh, Dean had some nasty habits. A few strips of duct tape slapped across his cheeks, he’d sweat them off probably. Skin pinching with it, twisted under tape, blood circulation cutting off. Dean didn’t play safe but Sam trusted him and they were both a lot reckless.

Strong calloused hands flipped Sam onto his belly, mattress squeaking underneath, and Dean was pulling his knee wide. Legs folded up, calf to back of thigh and wrapped tight. Like a duct tape mummy. The stickiness was distracting, but Sam felt secure. Swaddled up like a baby. At his brother’s mercy.

Dean was good of taking care of him, ever since they were just babies for real.

“See now, Sam plays all nice at first, brings out those puppy eyes, but just you wait ‘till I get him worked up.”

A hard slap to the inside of a thigh over the duct tape left a stinging impression and Sam’s cock was hard between his belly and the rough sheets.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you.”

Cas isn’t in Sam’s line of sight anymore, but the whole time Dean’d been tying him up, the angel sat stiff as a cardboard cutout in the corner. Hands rested on his thighs. Eyes wide. Watching. But Sam and Dean, they could watch him now too.

“How long you been spying, anyway?”

Sam rubbed an itch on his nose against the mattress and rolled his head back, craning to catch site of the shady corner and the glint of Cas’ eyes. Flexing his fingers, Sam huffed and wriggled on the bed. Like his legs, his arms were folded up and taped, pinned, Dean even criss crossed some around his chest, not so much for practical purpose, just to make him sweat and itch. It was kind of annoying.

The sound of a hand cracking hard over Sam’s ass registered before the pain of it did, blooming hot under his skin.

“Stop your squirming.”

Dean hit him a few more times for good measure. It made Sam wanna squirm more, but this time wasn’t just about him and Dean. He could behave.

“Answer the question, Cas.”

Breath caught in his throat, Sam listened. Cas didn’t move, didn’t sigh or grunt. No audible tells. Sam kind of wondered if angels could blush.

“Months.”

“Really?”

Dean sounded pleased.

“How many months?” Was the follow up, bed swaying when Dean leant a knee on it, fingers dragging rough and blunt nails digging down the swell of Sam’s ass.

“Eight.”

“Damn, missed our reunion night. That was a hell of a night, wasn’t it, Sammy?”

He wasn’t supposed to wriggle, but Sam still squirmed like a hooked worm to lift his hips up and spread his legs wider. Dean’s wandering fingers dipped between his legs, pressed hard and cruel to the tender spot behind his balls and Sam chewed on the dirty gag that had him salivating for the bitter taste, shoved his face against the bed, jerked under Dean’s hot hold.

That had been a hell of a night, gut-sour with wanting and violent, taste of Ruby’s blood still in the back of his throat and Sam was half out of his mind but it didn’t seem like Dean had come back with much of a mind either so it was Ok. It was ok.

Sam wasn’t too sure where the angel fit into things. Though, he didn’t mind having someone watch. Dean’d been cagey and paranoid that they were being spied on, watched, manipulated. For some reason, when Dean called on him and told Cas to sit, Cas sat right down. Fully clothed, eyes wide. He snapped to attention at Dean’s words and Sam hadn’t been too clear on what was going on between them. Wasn’t sure if he liked the new scar on Dean’s shoulder. But these were Dean’s hands and his eyes and his attention focused on Sam. Always. Sam didn’t mind if Cas watched.

Their words fuzzed at the edges and drifted like radio static when Dean pushed a leg wide and painfully dug his knee into it and there was the sharp clink of metal, bed shifting, hands bruising on his skin and Dean fucking him with no preamble. Sam couldn’t do anything and it felt secure, good sometimes, to have that choice taken away so he could focus on the gut-punch ache of Dean’s cock and muscles stretched too fast and jesus, his brother’s going to ruin him one of these days, jesus, and Sam’s going to beg for it.

There’s a wounded noise that’s not from him, unfamiliar and high drifting over from the corner. Dean’s broad hand braced against the back of Sam’s neck and shoved his face further into the bedsheets and it was stifling and hot and his chest heaved with panic because he couldn’t breathe. Everything trapped inside was welling up frenzied and Sam didn’t have a choice, eyes wet and cock dripping and he felt all turned inside out. But the angel could always see inside him anyway, see his rotten core, and Dean’d always turned a blind eye. So it’s nothing new. There’s a wounded noise slipping around the edges of the tape starting to tear off his cheeks and Sam let it rip hoarsely out his throat when Dean found the right angle to fuck his orgasm out of him like bleeding a poisoned wound.

Everything was tingly and off kilter when a hand over the tape of his folded bound leg pulled. Panting through his nose, the too tight wend of tape burned and throbbed where it dug into skin. Dean hauled him practically off the edge of the bed and slapped two hands over his ass cheeks, pulling.

“That a good enough view, huh, this what you like watching?”

Sam tensed his muscles to push and Dean’s fingers curled tighter in approval. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere and Sam was shaking with it, the tape over his mouth ripped off and Dean digging in there for the rag, green eyes gone near black pinning him like Dean wanted to ask what’s so goddam funny but the joke’s all on Sam.


End file.
